The Second Goodbye
by firesoulslayer
Summary: She was the last of his family. And the one he'd had to say goodbye to first.


**Title**: The Second Goodbye  
**Fandom**: Doctor Who  
**Rating**: G  
**Characters**: Ten, Martha Jones, Susan Foreman  
**Disclaimer**: Doctor Who belongs to the BBC in all its British glory.  
**Warnings**: Spoiler-ish for Doomsday.  
**Summary**: _She was the last of his family. And the one he'd had to say goodbye to first._

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He'd known the moment they landed.

Martha was young, thought not so much as some of the companions he'd traveled with in the past. She'd wanted to see the future…one hundred years from now. The young ones were always looking forward and rarely ever looked back.

He'd grinned his usual grin and fiddled with the TARDIS controls and off they'd gone. The smile had faded the moment the last whirring of the engines had died.

Martha was oblivious. "Well, Doctor? Where are we then? And when?"

"Earth," he replied, a far off look in his eyes. "This is Earth. Paris, France, actually. The year is 2189. January 3, 2189." He turned to her and the depth of loss she read in his eyes nearly staggered her. "And this is the day that she died."

He'd avoided ever coming here. Not just Paris, France. Not just Earth. He'd avoided this year entirely on any planet. He'd nearly avoided this entire century. For the first few incarnations the loss had been too fresh, too painful. For the next few, well, there'd been plenty of time. And he'd seen her again, once, on Gallifrey. She'd looked so beautiful.

The next incarnations were busy with the Time War and its aftermath. No Time Lord left alive, excepting him of course. Always excepting him.

And these last few incarnations had been too ashamed to admit their failure. To let her know that Gallifrey was truly gone. There are no Time Lords. There were never any Time Lords and there will never be any more Time Lords.

Martha had wanted to see Earth in the 22nd century. Always looking forward, that one was.

Why had he told her yes?

Could it be, finally, after hundreds of years and nine regenerations, that it was time for him to bury her? She was the last of his family. And the one he'd had to say goodbye to first.

"Doctor?" Martha's concern was touching, really, but she couldn't begin to understand. He patted her hand where it rested on his upper arm and almost immediately his hearts clenched. His first incarnation had been rather fond of reassuring _her_ that way.

"There's something I have to do. Alone. I can't…explain it really. But I need you to stay here and keep an eye on the TARDIS." He left in a dizzying blur of brown trench coat, red Converse sneakers and an aging, battered fedora.

When he found her, she was an old woman. She looked older than he had, the last time he saw her. Relatively speaking, of course.

He knew she'd married David and knew that they had children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren even. None of that had ever concerned him because they were _human_. They would never travel through the ages as he and Susan had. He wondered if they'd ever even left their home world.

The resentment that blossomed in his chest brought him up short. He'd never realized that he still hadn't forgiven her for falling in love with a human. Susan could never be expected to regenerate and still part of him was _jealous_ of the life she'd found on Earth. Beloved planet to them both.

Yet she had stayed and he had not.

Her family was gathered around her now. The 22nd century had excellent medical care but Susan had lived well past the normal lifespan of a human. David had called the family together for the last time to see her off. There was only one thing in the universe that Susan Foreman feared, and that was the thought dying alone.

He hesitated at the door to her room. Looked in the small window, saw them all gathered 'round. His hand rested on the doorknob. His hearts were beating loudly in his ears and they almost drowned out the sound of her voice. Almost.

_I'm sending them all away_, she said to him. Her voice was paper thin, even in his head, but it was still hers. He'd recognize it anywhere. _Won't you come in?_

He took a deep breath and opened the door.

They filed past him, the rest of the family. David and Mark, the first son. His two children and their mother. Maggie and Doyle, the twins. Stanley and his brood. Morgan and Harold and Jamie and all their children too. The Doctor knew them all by name and he nodded as they passed until, finally, they were alone.

"Hello, grandfather," she said warmly. "I'd hoped you'd come today."

"Susan." A tremulous smile lifted his lips. "My dear Susan."

She looked him over with an appraising eye. "You're so young," she concluded at last. "Younger even than Maggie or Doyle. Just look at you!"

"Still not ginger, though," he said regretfully. "But I do have a mole! Rather like the mole. And the glasses!" He pulled out his pair of thick black frames and set them firmly upon his face. "I think they make me look rather dashing, don't you?"

She smiled that beautiful smile of hers and he could feel his hearts clench once more.

"Very dashing," she agreed. They sat in silence for a few moments, both wondering how to bridge the gulf that lay between them.

"I'm not angry, grandfather," she said at last. "I was, at first. For a long time, actually. But then I sent my son off to his first day of school. It was the hardest thing I think I've ever done. But afterwards, I understood. And as I watched him grow into a man, as I watched them all grow, I understood. And I wanted to thank you."

"Susan…"

She took his hand and shook her head. "No. Do you remember what you said to me as we parted?"

Unbidden, the words came from memory. "One day I shall come back. Yes, I shall come back. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Just go forward in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine." The last two words of that speech died on his lips. He couldn't say them again, not to her.

"No regrets, grandfather," she told him serenely. "I've lead a good life. I've proven what you wanted me to prove."

"Yes, you most certainly have."

"Do you think I'll see them again? Mother and father I mean?" He looked disconcerted at her rather abrupt change of topic but she forged ahead. "I know most Time Lords don't believe in life after death…well, life after a twelfth regeneration at any rate. But, do you think there's a chance?"

And though the words about Gallifrey and the Time War and the last of the Time Lords wanted to pour forth from his lips, he held them back. He held them back because he was a new man and this was _her_ time, not his and he was through being selfish. The only reason she hadn't been eradicated from this time stream with the rest of their race was because she was just human enough to be spared the fate of the Time Lords and yet had just enough of Gallifrey in her to prevent being wiped out despite the fact that her parents had never, in actuality, existed at all.

Instead he smiled and held her hand. "Anything's possible," he reminded her. "And, like Peter, I've always thought that 'to die will be an awfully big adventure'."

"Then this time, I will lead the way." Her eyes became distant and unfocused as she gazed into the great beyond that waits for us all.

"We will meet again. Until then, there must be no regrets, no tears, no anxieties. Goodbye, grandfather."

He held her hand as she took her last breath. He still could not say the words. Just as he couldn't to say them to Sarah Jane. Just as he hadn't wanted to say them to Rose.

The second goodbye, he decided bitterly, was always the hardest.


End file.
